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Leithian Script: Act III: 27. Scene XXI

A Boy, A Girl & A DogThe Lay of Leithian Dramatic Script Project TINUVIEL AT BAY: A CACCIA OF BELERIANDSCENE XXI

Gower:

Small waves and winds may mark a passing gust, soon oe'r; --or signify the coming of a gale-wind's flood and roar--

[The Regent's office. Orodreth is standing with hands clasped behind his back, listening to Gwindor, and looking at a painting over the fireplace showing a seascape with sunset castle (which is probably Barad Nimras, not imaginary view. )]

Orodreth:

So she knows.

Gwindor:

I'm afraid so, sir.

Orodreth:

Well. In a way, it's a relief, I must confess. --Do you know what she means to do?

Gwindor:

I -- couldn't say.

Orodreth:

I'm not asking you to betray any confidences.

Gwindor:

Truly, sir, I don't. I -- my guess is that she would take independent action, again. But I don't think it would be feasible, because of their orders, and their partisans among the Guard--

[hopeful]

--unless you were to intervene, sir.

Orodreth:

You know I can't do that.

Gwindor: [lightly]

u know, this time they didn't even have to raise a hand to profit by others' work. Well, if guile and coercion are what it takes to rule, along with ruthlessness, then they're as fit to be sovereigns as the Enemy himself.

[Orodreth gives him a sidelong glance, and he reddens]

Sorry, sir -- I meant no disrespect.

Orodreth:

You did. But that's all right.

[sighs]

Whatever one may truly say about a somewhat casual and proprietary attitude evinced towards their own followers, it's true that during the chaos of the battle their primary concern was to effect the safe retreat of the greatest number of their people, with little regard for the salvage of property and possession.

[musing]

--Of course if your attitude towards property is that you can always acquire more of it from someone else, so long as you have a sword, then that isn't perhaps so creditable after all...

[turns to face Gwindor]

Stay attentive. Let me know what you hear, both what's reported and -- what isn't.

Gwindor:

Yes, my lord. --There's far more of the latter than the former, I'm afraid.

Orodreth:

Do your best. It isn't your fault that you're resented -- I had to put someone in charge, Gwin, and I'm sorry it was you.

Gwindor:

It isn't that, sir -- not only that. It's also that there are things I don't know to ask, or that I'm expected to understand, that Intelligence doesn't even think to tell me because I should already know. --Quite apart from the fact that no one trusts anyone else these days.

Orodreth: [grim smile]

How can they, when we cannot even trust ourselves?

[Gwindor bows and leaves, wearing a frown pretty much permanent now]

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